


Frayed

by waywardvagabond



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardvagabond/pseuds/waywardvagabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bars on your cage rattle when he gets forcibly thrown in the cage beside the blind girl, his body slamming against the concrete with a yelp. He looks up at the man in white with fury in his amber eyes. “This is wrong. This is inhumane.”</p><p>The man in white crouches in front of Karkat, his bright green eyes even with the troll’s as he spits, “Then it’s a good thing <i>you’re not human</i>.” A syringe you didn’t see before gets plunged into Karkat’s thigh, his eyes widening before lethargically sliding shut, his limp form dropping to the floor of the cage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thursdays are a free day for you. Free of injections, free of training, free for you to lay on the floor and stare up at the ashen ceiling through the cold steel bars above your head.

A sigh escapes your lips as you ponder useless thoughts, such as the fleeting idea of something that could be done to pass the time. But that’s a silly thought, because there is nothing to do. Jackfuck nothing. You could twiddle your thumbs, to see if that’s interesting. You do so, and when you do not understand what the hype is about, you drop your hands to your chest, another sigh rustling your feathery white hair.

“If you keeping s-sighing like so, you will cause a- a significant change in weather pa-patterns.” The sudden voice is raspy, yet eloquent, like an intelligent person who has been coughing too much for her own good. This seems to be the case when a few small hacks and the clearing of a throat soon follows.

A smirk quirks at your lips as you sit up with the blanket remaining on your shoulders, spinning on your ass to face the voice in question through the steel bars separating you from her. Rose, a girl with stringy white hair similar to yours and striking purple eyes. Rose, elegant yet destroyed. Rose, another experiment.

“Thanks, Rose. You always know exactly what to say when your friend is literally slowly dying of boredom on his one free day off. Though it isn’t exactly ‘free’ when we live in a cage, though is it?”

Rose nods faintly, her delicate lips parting as if she is about to speak; however, she is interrupted by a sudden violent gurgling cough, her back lurching a bit and a hand coming up in an attempt to hinder the streams of thick black liquid that pours from the corner of her lips, through the cracks in her ashy grey fingers, and onto her cheap lab-issued clothes and blanket; both of which are already stained from the substance.

You simply sigh; as this is a normal occurrence. You watch the coughing fit as it happens, her spine convulsing as each rough hack shakes her petite frame. Scanning her figure, you notice her normally dark charcoal grey skin has faded, now more chalky, but still not looking like a normal human’s complexion. The inky blackness in her scleras is no longer as breathtakingly prominent; her words not faltering into incoherent gibberish.

You aren’t sure what the scientists were going for when they started Rose, but you’re pretty sure they have failed.

However, that doesn’t mean they have given up. She’s still relentlessly poked and prodded, tested and injected. You think the grey skin and black eyes could fade after a while, but the scientists inject the same chemicals into her body every week.

You realize, with a start, that her day for receiving those chemicals is Thursday and a blue coat will be here any second to take her away. You clear your throat uncomfortably.

“So, shots today for you, huh?”

Rose’s lilac eyes flick up to you, her chin nodding stiffly. “I will… survive,” she rasps feebly.

You nod once. “It’ll be okay. You know that. I don’t want to give you bullshit that you’ve already heard before, but you know it’s true.”

“That does not stop me from being afraid.”

A pang of pity strikes through your heart, so you reach through the bars between you to place your hand on hers, which she takes immediately. A gesture platonic, yet reassuring.

“If it helps—” Your words are cut off by screeching alarms, and red flashing lights.

Warning sirens.

Someone is trying to escape.

A genderless, professional-sounding voice comes over the intercom, announcing, “All Black-level scientists should report to the gymnasium immediately, unless instructed otherwise by a higher authority. Thank you.” The sirens continue.

You exchange a glance with Rose. Black coats are considered the highest level of scientist, trained in martial arts and are usually the head of a department.

“The gym- trolls are in training today,” Rose manages, her breath coming in wisps and her hand vice around yours. “They- escape attempt. Llorel h’nfen—” she breaks off with a cough, her anxiety becoming more obvious with her delve into incoherency and the strained grip she has on your palm.

You massage vague circles into the back of her and quietly shoosh her. “Hey, they’re gonna be fine. The trolls were all taken, not created. If someone escapes they know what they’re doing.”

She nods once, probably too afraid to speak. The double doors to the containment room slam open, a small pool of people with grey skin and orange horns being herded to their proper aisle, to their proper cage. Loud, panicked cries carry down the hall and into the room, a familiar voice crying out, “YOU CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS! GET THE HELL OFF OF ME, YOU BLATHERING IDIOTS!”

Well, at least you know that Karkat is alive.

A blind girl is herded into the cage adjacent to Rose’s, diagonal from yours. An attempt to enhance all her senses resulted in the loss of sight, and extremely powerful taste and smell. She mumbles something to Rose, something you can’t hear. Rose hums in affirmation.

And then you see Karkat, two Black-coats dragging him towards his cage and a man in pristine white clothes trailing directly behind. “This is fucking illegal, you cowards! Just fucking let us go!”

The bars on your cage rattle when he gets forcibly thrown in the cage beside the blind girl, his body slamming against the concrete with a yelp. He looks up at the man in white with fury in his amber eyes. “This is wrong. This is inhumane.”

The man in white crouches in front of Karkat, his bright green eyes even with the troll’s as he spits, “Then it’s a good thing _you’re not human_.” A syringe you didn’t see before gets plunged into Karkat’s thigh, his eyes widening before lethargically sliding shut, his limp form dropping to the floor of the cage.

————

Once the scientists are gone, you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You tear your eyes away from Karkat’s unconscious frame, forcing yourself to survey your friends. Rose’s jaw is quivering, her wet dark eyes unmoving from your friend. Terezi is in about the same position she was in when she first landed in her cage, her unseeing eyes focused on a wall behind Karkat’s cage. Shit like this really gets your feathers ruffled.

Finally, you break the silence. “Terezi.” She flinches, her chin snapping in your general direction. “What the hell happened in there? What did he do?”

“He fucked up.” Her words are numb.

“Well, no shit. Never would’ve guessed.” There was more venom laced in the words than intended, so softer, you add, “Look, I just want to know what happened.”

“Dumbass got sick of everything, tried to break the window with his stupid sickle.” An image comes to mind: a window in the training room, almost the size of the whole wall itself. “But it’s an injustice; he’s right.”

You sigh, running the fingers of your free hand through your hair. “Did it even crack?”

Terezi shakes her head. “I didn’t hear it do much. Equius thinks it’s Plexi. Missile-proof.” Her throat flexes as she swallows hard. “He’s so fucking… He’s an idiot! He’s going to get himself killed and he doesn’t even care.”

“I promise you, I’ll get us out of here one day.”

“Oh my god, is everyone here a dumbass?” Her head tosses back a bit, her shoulders slumping slightly.

“I’m serious.” And you are, your shoulders back and your face a perfect mask of sobriety.

“She- she knows, and that’s what makes… makes you a dumbass.”

Your gaze snaps to meet her eyes, and the smirk on her ink-stained lips taunts you. “You’re not helping.”

“Oh, I wasn’t attempting t-to,” she responds immediately, her usual rasp accompanied by an amused tone. It is at this point you notice Rose’s grip on your hand has slackened, and you realized that she is substantially more relaxed than she was before. Good. You don’t like it when your friends are upset. Rose continues. “I side with Terezi.”

“Wow, apparently today is Dave is a dumbass day. Wish someone had told me.” You roll your eyes, glancing over at the congregation of blue coats at the start of your aisle of cages. You watch as one of them ushers another creature back into their cage, and you duly note that you haven’t seen him before. He’s more gentle than the others, more of helping the experiments rather than throwing them around like the others. The realization dawns on you when he checks his clipboard (you note absently that his brow furrows, his lower lip finding itself between his slightly protruding teeth), and he glances your way. “Rose,” you murmur warningly, your eyes not leaving the man.

You hear her breath hitch and pick up, and her hand tightens around yours. “G’hathgl—llaman—”

You cut her off and turn back to face her. “Rose. Rosie, look at me.” Vibrant purple irises lock onto crimson ones, the fear evident in her eyes. “It’ll be fine. It always is.”

She shakily nods a few times.

The man unlocks the front of her cage, and for the first time you notice how vibrant his eyes are, the same color as the lab coat on his back, a ring of blue around his pupil the same color as the sky you’ve glimpsed through the thick glass of the window in the training room. He speaks, and his voice is gently optimistic. “Hi, you’re experiment twelve-four? You’re due for a few injections today.”

“Gl’flange en twaset ah t’llegh tu,” she spits, her features contorted with disgust.

You sigh, speaking up. “She’s scared. Be careful with her.”

He nods, and extends a hand.

Glaring, she shoves away his hand, climbing out of the cage on her own. A small act of defiance, but it’s enough for her. You watch in silence as a confused look falls over his face. The man simply shrugs and gently pushes her toward the double doors leading into the medical wing.

You sigh, pulling the thin blanket higher up your shoulders. You turn back to face Terezi. “I was serious, you know.”

She quirks a brow. “About escaping? You’re a dumbass.”

“Probably, but it’s worth it.”

“It’s worth most likely dying for? This isn’t a goddamn movie, twelve-three, you can’t just not look at the explosion and pretend you won’t get killed.”

“Never seen a movie.”

A gruff, lethargic voice cuts in. “Yeah, and that’s a damn shame.” Karkat carefully sits up, leaning his back to the bars behind him. His eyes remain shut, his pain evident in the way his neck is craned back. “They didn’t have to fucking sedate me, god. What did I miss?”

“You’re a dumbass, Dave’s a dumbass, and you’re a fucking dumbass, dumbass. Also Dave intends on escaping.”

A slow groan cascades from Karkat’s lips. “Dumbass. For one thing, it’s impossible. For another, you should just give up. You been through excruciation for what was it? Twenty years now?”

“Twenty-one,” you mumble numbly, your eyes trained on the floor.

“Twenty-one years. You’ve attempted escape twice, it’s not gonna fucking happen, so just. Capitulate. Give in.”

“Tell me what the rain tastes like.”

Karkat opens an eye. “What?”

Unadulterated anger flits through your eyes. You snap your gaze to him, your Jaw tense and your mind reeling. “Tell me what the fucking rain tastes like. What’s it look like when the sun comes up. What does grass feel like. What’s a mom look like, Karkat? I was born here. I've lived here for as long as I can remember, and shit, I don’t even know what the real wind feels like.” You’re not done, but you pause. Terezi is near tears, and Karkat’s got his eyes trained on you.

“You guys- you're fucking lucky. You were taken when you were fifteen. You've been here for five years. Karkat, I can’t even fucking write properly. I’ve been here twenty-one goddamn years, and you’re telling me to give up? What the fuck kind of sick joke is that? I’m getting out of here, and you can damn well count on it.” You’re breathing heavy, furiously.

A glance at Karkat reveals he’s moved to the back of the cage, eyes wider than usual ( _and filled with fear, you note absently_ ). In your fury, the thin blanket had fallen off your shoulders, vast alabaster wings almost completely unfurled and pressed harshly against the bars of the cage.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She simply shakes her head, curling into your heat. Finally, Rose mumbles very carefully, very quietly, very calculated, “...Ungodly.” The thick black seeps out of her mouth when her lips part.

Another needle in your skin. There is hardly ever not one.

The machine processes your calories, metabolism, and god knows what else, before telling the employee at the feeding counter what to give you and how much. You receive a white plastic tray of some sort of grey slop, with a single cup of water. You regard the tray with disgust.

Scanning the room, you notice Rose, shaking like a newly recruited experiment, jaw trembling, curling around her self.

Rose is always freezing when she comes back from her injections, always huddled shivering at the feeding table around noon. You toss your cheap plastic lunch tray on the table as you slide in the seat adjacent to hers, habitually curling a wing around her and tugging her closer to you on the cold steel bench. Your fingers graze her tangled hair, her clammy face. You murmur, “Hey, you doing alright?”

She simply shakes her head, curling into your heat. Finally, Rose mumbles very carefully, very quietly, very calculated, “...Ungodly.” The thick black seeps out of her mouth when her lips part.

You both know she's not talking about herself, however unholy she may be.

You hum in vague agreement, coiling your wing just slightly tighter around your friend as she delves into another fit of prophetic gibberish and wheezing. When her trembling subsides ever slightly, you question, “Are you hungry at all?”

“N-not for whatever this is.”

“Never have been.” You chuckle softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Doesn't really work when some fucking Blue coat slams into your back, especially when his belt scrapes off a couple of feathers. It didn’t even hurt that bad, but for some reason you screech, swiveling around in the bench to face the asshole, your teeth bared.

“Hey!” the man barks, obviously trying a bit too hard to look angry. “Watch it, twelve-three!”

Confusion floods your face and features. He doesn't exactly… look angry. Eyebrows drawn, sure, but… Something in his eyes. Sincerity.

He slams his hand on your tray. “Just fucking eat, experiment!”

You’re still confused, staring at him with apprehension. It’s not unusual for a scientist to act out like this, but. It seems strange and foreign on this man. As he marches away, you absently note that it was the same blue-eyed man that took Rose to her injections yesterday.

You hear Rose gasp, and you cast a concerned glance in her direction; however, she is staring at your tray.

Bread.

You haven’t had bread in so goddamned long.

It takes you a few seconds to connect the dots, but... why would a Blue give you bread?

You're not sure you care, at present.

———

After that strange occurrence, the days pass in their usual routine, with no interruption. You follow the pattern numbly; you wake up, you go to the food hall, you go to your activity, back to the food hall, and then it's lights out.

However, for you, lights out doesn't mean sleep. For you, it means about three hours of wakefulness, and listening to the poor scientist (you scoff at the thought- yes, what poor, poor scientists) that has to take the night shift pace the aisles and aisles of far too many cages.

In fact, you lay there now. Your wings, sore and stretched completely across the special cage given to you to accommodate their large expansion. You close your eyes, and you listen.

_Step._

_Step._

_Step._

_Step…_

They continue, they grow louder. And right when you think the guard, the same guard that carried Rose away, the same guard that gave you bread, is in front of you, your eyes open; you speak.

“You’re a new Blue, aren’t you?” Your voice echoes through the empty space. The color of the scientist’s lab coats represent the level of authority they carry. White, blue, red, black. All black level scientists are the head of each department, and they are trained in different types of martial arts.

Red coats are specially trained to each department. The speciality doctors (called _avian biologists_ or some pretentious shit) that tend and prod and poke and abuse you are Reds. Even the ones that monitor you in strife sessions are Reds.

The Blue ones generally do the bidding of higher-ups, bringing experiments from place to place like a shepherd.

You've never seen a White, as they are not allowed back near the human experiments. Having worked with the lab for less than a year, they cannot be trusted to keep such a heinous secret safe.

Returning to the present, the man is a bit startled, as evidenced by his sudden halt and sharp intake of breath. He stutters out, “Uh, yeah. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

"Dunno if you noticed, but I got bird shit in my genes. Lotsa birds are nocturnal. Instead of sleeping, I like to practice my bird calls so I can become one with my brethren and get the fuck outta dodge." Sarcasm so thick it seeps onto the floor.

"Ha, ha. I'm sure you do. Go to sleep, twelve-three." You watch as the man sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, almost going to continue his rounds.

"Nah, think m’gonna watch you. You're too damn interesting."

The man snorts. His shoulder almost relax the slightest bit, as if he's comfortable talking to you. "Yeah, the kid with wings tells me that I'm interesting."

"Mmm, well. Everyone here seems to think I'm only interesting 'because I had wings grafted into my flesh and bone. You're interesting, Blue. Why the bread?" As you speak, you sit up and shake your wings out, hooking your two front fingers over the bars of the cage.

A smile plays at the guys lips as he glances around (for what, you're not sure- there's hardly ever more than one night guard) before he sits down in the floor in front of you, only thin steel bars separating the two of you. "I am human, you know. Just like you. I feel sympathy, Dave. Nobody wants to eat that grey shit."

He called you human.

He called you _human_.

He also called you Dave, and how the fuck did he figure out that your friends call you Dave, but still! Human! _Human_! That's more than any of the scientists have said to you!

Yet, all that escapes your mouth is the ever-so intelligent, "Uh, how did you know I'm called Dave?" Even though you're basically shrieking on the inside.

"Work gets boring sometimes. I listen to conversations sometimes. I really like Terezi's conspiracy theory about the end of the first Ghostbusters."

"Ghostbusters."

"Ghostbusters!"

"What the fuck is that?"

The Blue gasps like you've sliced off his hand. Which, in fact, has happened to a blue before. " _You've never seen Ghostbusters??_ " he hisses, his hand covering his heart as though he was deeply offended.

Evidently, he didn't read too closely to your file. "Blue, I've never seen grass. I've been here since I can remember."

The slight smile playing at the man's lips fades, and he clears his throat, his gaze shifting elsewhere. After a few moments, he murmurs, "...John."

"What?"

"My name is John, not Blue or whatever. I mean I am a Blue level, but... I'm John." Strange name. Never heard of it.

"Oh." John (it even sounds strange in your head) looks uncomfortable, but at the same time... sad? Melancholy? Whatever it is, it looks wrong on him, so, fiddling with your fingers, you mumble, "So uh, tell me about this 'Ghostbuddy' thing."

And as you expected, John lights up like a torch, and launches into a tale about three friends who start a business that stops ghosts, and a few of them fall in love, and eventually protect the city from impending doom and a giant marshmallow guy. You have to stop him a few times to ask what things are ("Wait wait wait, the fuck is a marshmallow guy." "Oh! Marshmallows are like really fluffy candy, I think." "You think?" "I don't know how to describe them!"), but overall the story's kind of interesting, and you even laugh a few times. Softly, but it was definitely a laugh.

It's strange, though. You've hardly said a sentence to a scientist without venom lacing your words, yet... Here you are. Conversing with one. Hell, even laughing.

No one can know.

At one point, John (the name sounds much more familiar now) glances down at his watch and gasps. "Shit, I really didn't mean to spend this much time talking to you! Go to sleep!”

You’re laying prone at this point, your head propped up on your chin. “Nah. Go do your rounds or whatever.”

“Yeah, sure, okay. Seeya, Dave. Go to sleep!” And with that, he gets up and walks away with a slightly ambiguous wave.

God, it feels so fucking weird being so casual with a _scientist,_ for god sake. You shouldn’t trust him. You can’t.

(But you can.)

No.

(Yes.)

FUCK OFF.

But he’s so strange. Why does he work here, of all places? You roll onto your back and ponder this, your arms folded behind your head. The creatures here are being tortured, abused- and yet he’s still here. This-this nice man, someone so passionate about movies and things, who can make someone like you, someone with a stoic wall of a face laugh-- Something’s not right here, but you can’t put your finger on it.

You slowly fall asleep to the sound of John’s footsteps slowly clicking away.

————

_stuck trapped caged wingless_

_flightless trapped cornered_

_grounded restrained claustrophobic_

_claustrophobic_

_trapped_

_trapped_

_trapped_

————

You wake up gasping for breath, your wings shaking out behind you. A cold sheen of sweat coats your face; you wipe it away as you catch your breath and your bearings.

These actions are not unusual.

What is unusual, John visits you every night, without fail.

For the last two weeks.

Turns out, he has a half sister, and a dad who likes cake far too much.

Cake is like bread but sweeter.

John thinks cake is overrated.

John likes movies and conspiracy theories. He doesn’t tell you many, though.

You are close.

You are afraid.

————

“Hey,” you start one day, your wings splayed on the cool concrete.

“Hey,” John retorts with a quiet smile.

"Why are you here?"

John tenses; his smile fades. "Uh, why are we all here, hah? The ultimate question, right?" His hand finds the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously.

"You know what I mean, you ass. Why are you at this lab? You don't seem like the type of person watch us suffer and lend a hand to the people hurting us. _Why_ are you here?" Your face doesn't change from your stoic facade, as you are trying to be frank with him. Honestly, John just seems far too nice to sit around and watch this happen.

He is silent for a while, staring at his lap. Finally, he murmurs, "You should go to sleep."

"Tell me, first."

With angry eyes he jerks his chin up at you, but you see more than anger. Fear? Maybe... something sad. You're not sure. "Go to sleep."

"Why are you here!?"

"I _can't TELL YOU_!" His voice is almost pained as he slams his fist against the steel bars of your cage. The bars rattle across the aisle and you squawk, your wings flapping as you scramble backwards. A few experiments startle awake, glancing around with wide eyes, constantly in fear of being euthanized. John scrambles to his feet as a door in the distance opens. "Go the fuck to sleep, _experiment_ ," he growled, putting you in your place.

You are not fooled by this act. _What's the fuck is his deal?_ you wonder as John walks away, likely confirming with the Red coat that just walked in that he has it under control.

He is hiding something from you. Not that that’s a surprise, but you made the mistake of treating him like a friend.

Rose is peering at you, her eyes still managing to pierce yours in the dark, her stained lips pursed. " _What_ ," you hiss, "what is it?"

She shakes her head, curling back up around her blanket.

You close your eyes.

\----------

The gymnasium has a large window on the side, covering almost the whole wall.

You stand on the edge and watch the storm roll in, your sword held limp in your hand, just barely scraping the ledge of the window.

Davis flies up next to you, staring out at the ominous clouds. You cast a glance at him, noticing his orange hair seems a bit more tame today. A flash of lightning illuminates his face; you clearly notice every freckle and tawny feather on his being.

“Storm’s rolling in.”

Thanks, Davis. Had no idea. You simply offer a hum in response. After a few moments, you murmur, “Don’t you ever feel flightless?” Your eyes remain fixed on the heavy clouds.

“Dave, dude. That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard leave your goddamned mouth. Just sayin’.” He chuckles cynically, extending a tawny wing to prod at your lax ones.

“Shut the fuck up. We can fly in here, yeah, but… Dude. We’re trapped. Don’t you ever even wonder what wind and feathers feel like?”

“Jesus, not this again. You know I got visions, right? I know how this ends. I end up in a cage. For the rest of my goddamn life. And so will you. So get over it.”

You snarl, your gaze snapping to him, your teeth bared. “No.”

“What?”

“No! This isn’t it, turn the page! We’re trapped, we can’t fly! Wake up! They gave us wings and then they clipped ‘em!” You vaguely register thunder clapping behind you.

Davis reflexively holds his sword across his chest in defense. “Dude, you’re fucking psycho. You ain’t getting out of here. You tried, you failed.” He opens his mouth, and then closes it, shaking his head ever so slightly. Stepping of the platform, his lets his wings act as a parachute and glide him to the ground. Davis starts heading to the orange circle at one end of the gym.

You are seeing red.

You are _sick._

You are fucking sick.

_(You’ve attempted escape twice, it’s not gonna fucking happen, so just. Capitulate. Give in.)_

You find yourself standing at the red circle, your teeth bared at Davis across the room. You vaguely hear a Red coat call out ‘strife’ before you’re in the air.

You’re across the room in seconds, snarling before Davis.

_(Ungodly.)_

You note fear in his eyes.

Your sword is swinging before you can think. You aren’t even thinking, really.

_(You ain’t getting out of here. You tried, you failed.)_

There is so much red. Blood orange. Hah. What a bitter irony.

You hear muffled shrieking, and you see Davis’s mouth wide open.

_(Then it’s a good thing you're not human.)_

no

no wait

no no no no why why why WHY

HE WAS YOUR FRIEND WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU

You’re on your knees now, your legs hardly supporting you as ragged breaths rip through your throat. Your _friend_ is too, staring up at you. Tears streak his cheeks. Blood streaks his feathers. His chest.

You absently notice that he got one good slice in across your stomach, blood dripping down your own front.

You absently notice your sword clattering to the ground. You absently notice a Red stabbing a needle into your side.

The last words to you remember saying were a broken screech of “I’m so fucking _sorry._ ”

————

Weird images cross your mind, and weird words. Weird feelings.

The feeling of two people dragging you across the entire base.

The smell of metallic blood dripping off your chest and onto the pristine white floor.

The taste of guilt on your tongue.

The sounded of shouting and panicked yells.

The sight of John. You see John, and he looks panicked.

————

You wake; however, not completely. The muffled sound of panicked discussion passes through your drowsy ears.

What... what are you sitting on? You're definitely propped up. Something soft. Kinda squishy.

Holy shit, wait, are you bleeding? You can feel something dripping down your stomach.

You jerk awake, like, actually awake, and you are thoroughly confused. Everything is... green? The desk in front of you, the chair, the curtains, the books shelves... All tinted green. You squeeze your eyes shut a few times to confirm you're not crazy.

The discussion crescendos and then ceases altogether when you lift you hand, tugging on your sweat and blood soaked shirt.

"It's awake," someone hisses finally. You're too out of it turn around and see who.

"Indeed. Out, go. Wait out there until you are needed," comes the reply after a moment or two.

The soft sound of a door shutting meets your ears, and the sight of a man in white sitting down in front of you meets your eyes. He smiles, but you find it sinister, not welcoming. You realize you are sitting in Doctor Scratch's office. He finally speaks up. "Good evening, twelve-three, can you hear me?"

You find it hard to nod, like your limbs are full of lead. Finally, you croak, "I can hear you."

"Ah, yes, but you do not seem to be very cognizant. I will start off small. Do you understand why you are here?" You assume his smile is supposed to be inviting, his relaxed demeanor welcoming. Doctor Scratch folds one hand over the other on his mahogany desk. You realize he is expecting an answer.

"Uh," you start, trying to think through your muddled brain. "I... I'm not sure."

The doctor hums, and you can feel him examining you. "An incident, perhaps? During your allotted strife time?" A flash of lightning sends light peeking out from behind the green curtains. "Perhaps, involving your friend, experiment twelve-five?"

Twelve... five? Thats

thats

davis

oh god oh god oh GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

"Now, now, calm down twelve-three, this is nothing to fret over." You realized you have started hyperventilating, and you look from your blood crusted hands back to Doctor Scratch with wide eyes. "We would just like to talk to you about the consequences of your actions--"

"--is Davis okay?"

"Your friend is not to be worried about."

"Is he okay?"

"He is not the subject at hand."

" _Tell me_ if--"

"Silence! We are not discussing this now. Do you remember the last experiment that stepped out of line? Experiment English."

Your jaw clenched, a glare set on your brow, you nod. English, known as Caliborn by most experiments, mutated into a huge green beast and nearly destroyed the facility. He was promptly euthanized.

"It would be a shame for you to meet the same fate, would it not? After all, you are one of our most successful experiments. Along with twelve-five. Meaning, you are expendable."

You almost hiss, your talon-like fingernails digging into the seat of the chair. You will not let them euthanize you. You will not stay long enough for them to try.  
"We must also discuss the words you were shouting. Do you remember them?"

With your glare still firmly set, you slowly shake your head. Did you say something? You might've. You don't even remember carrying out the deed.

"Something along the lines of 'I will not capitulate'?" he hints, his white brows raising slightly. "Capitulate to what?"

You open your mouth, and then close it. Another flash behind the curtains, a loud clash following. You swallow hard.

"If you are still so hellbent on leaving here, I can assure you, you one day will. In the form of ash."

You bare your teeth, and Doc Scratch's smile turns into a smug smirk.

"I see I have hit the nail right on the head. We might have to put you in a high security containment room. You might enjoy four solid white walls for a while. You are flightless."

"You're wrong." You find yourself standing. 

"I'm sorry?" He seems surprised, another flash illuminating the curtains behind him.

You're suddenly on his desk,  and what happens next does so in a blur.

Your talons scrape across his face as you propel towards him. His chair falls backward. Trinkets and books are knocked askew. The curtains pull aside, searing pain scrapes along your wings, and you are tumbling, you are falling, and you are soaked.

Why are you wet? Is there a fire? That happened once. You think you're laying on carpet. You open your eyes, and holy fucking shit

You are outside. 

You are outside. 

You are outside.

You laugh, actually laugh, and your fingers curl around the grass.

You're outside!

It only truly occurs to you when the sirens sound, and you spur into action.

You spring to a ready position with your knees slightly bent and with your wings curled in front of you, and then you're gone, wings pushing hard against the air over the trees and toward the distant lights.

You'd like to say you enjoy the sensation of flying, and you do! For the most part. The feeling of utter freedom in your gut, the air through your bloodied and frayed feathers. The rain on your face. And in your wings. 

Soon enough, your wings get heavy. You cannot see. Where are you? The wind pushing against you is too rough. You get tired, so, so tired.

And then you start falling. And goddamn, does it _hurt_.

Landing in the grass and mud rattles every bone across your body, across your wings. Those land spread out in a painful heap. You are suddenly aware of every slice and bruise and sore spot. You were too weak, but that's okay. You don't mind.

Once you gain your breath in a ragged gasp, you try to sit up, scrambling around in the muddy grass, but you ultimately end up sliding back down onto your stomach. You are so tired.

Your fingers curl around the weeds and grass around you. It is soft.

The rain pelts your wings, washing out long dirty feathers. It is gentle.

It is dark. You never saw the sun, or the moon, but you do not mind so much.

You are tired. 

You are tired, and when your eyes close, you think, _at least, at_ least _, I died free._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goD I AM TRASH. i totally didn't intend for this to take forever to get this up.  
> hopefully the next chapter will come sooner!! part of its gonna be in john's pov eheh  
> i should mention that this will not completely follow the events of maximum ride. there are a few allusions to max ride, such as similarities with itex and, well. the whole wings thing.  
> also this chapter is titled "chopter tow" in my document.  
> come shout at me @ amporas.tumblr.com!!

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is my first fic!! yeah well the first fic i've posted anyway haha  
> this is going to be multi-chapter and most definitely johndave  
> ships, archive warning, and rating will change if i deem necessary  
> thank you for reading!!


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